


What if your Soulmate is your Greatest Enemy?

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Series: Dork Drabbles [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble Collection, Magic, One Shot, Post-Canon, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 03:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Oikawa was the best team captain Seijoh has ever seen.Now, it's Yahaba's turn to be even better.





	What if your Soulmate is your Greatest Enemy?

Kyoutani soars through the air, back bending, his body snapping like a rubber band. The ball smashes against the floor, but the sound is buried as half of the court erupts into victorious yells, nearly drowned out by the roar of the audience.

Yahaba high fives Watari’s outstretched hand. “One more point," he says, "and we retake the lead.”

Across the net, Goshiki fumes. “Like we’d let you.”

Yahaba smiles thinly, but, as he steps into position, shoes squeaking, anxiety gnaws at his gut. Goshiki's right. With or without Ushijima, Shiratorizawa can’t be taken lightly. He squares his shoulders. They can’t afford even a single mistake.

A heavy silence settles, quickly broken by a hand slapping against the ball.

“Kunimi, nice serve!”

In an instant, number five hits the ball higher. It arcs perfectly into Shirabu’s hands, as if magnetically guided to him. He launches it to Goshiki with blinding speed.

Yahaba rushes to save it, but an invisible force propels him backwards. Kindaichi stumbles besides him. “A force field?” He punches at unyielding air.

Yahaba tries to find a way around it, but there’s no time.

The ball races towards the ground.

_Smack! _

Suddenly the ball soars through the air. Kyoutani jumps, brutally slamming it down on the other side of the court.

Shoulders slumping in relief, Yahaba beams. “Nice save, Kunimi.”

In what was only empty space, Kunimi materializes, flashing a lazy peace sign.

Shirabu’s glare is murderous. “Like hell are you taking this set.” The rotation turns, bringing him to the center of the court. Stormy eyes burn with a silent challenge.

Yahaba shares a glance with Watari. This is it. The moment they’ve been waiting for. “You can do it.” Watari pats his shoulder before running to the bench, leaving a first year in his place. Yahaba’s heart pounds hard. His sneakers squeak against the back line. He’s so far away from the net. Sweat drips down his face. This isn’t good.

The ball shoots towards them. Lightning sparks around it.

“Darn it!” Arms outstretched, Kindaichi hits it by the tips of his fingers. His breath leaves in a pained hiss, but there’s no time to rest. Already, the ball is back in Shirabu’s grasp. Flames erupt around his hands, encasing the ball like a torch.

In slow motion, Yahaba watches him jump, the others leaping out of his way. The ball smashes towards the ground. Yahaba dives forward. His muscles burn. The floor scraps his arms. Flames sear Yahaba’s hands, but icy relief spreads across his palms, smothering the fire. The ball bounces up, and Kindaichi spikes it hard, breaking through the block with a triumphant roar.

“You okay?”

Someone helps Yahaba stand, but he doesn’t see who. All he sees is the stunned look on Shirabu’s face, eyes wide and lips parted. “Seijoh had an ice user… All this time.” The words leave in a hushed whisper.

Yahaba’s hands ache, but he smiles. “I’m Yahaba. Nice to finally meet you.”

Something like recognition sparkles in Shirabu’s eyes like a knife blade. “They kept an ice user on the bench.” He straightens up, linking his hands together behind his head in preparation for Goshiki’s jump serve. “How stupid.”

Yahaba’s eye twitches at the jab, but his heart pounds hard with the thrill of the challenge, the rush of finally putting his skill to the test without getting in Oikawa’s way. “Getting scared?”

Shirabu rolls his eyes. The whistle blows. In the seconds of Goshiki’s run, leaping into the air like a mighty eagle taking flight, Shirabu’s eyes burn with a fire all their own. “You better be a rival worth my time.”

Kunimi hits the serve back into the air, and just like that, the words are gone, replaced with only sharp smiles as Yahaba sets up for a quick, Shirabu for a counter.

He will be the greatest rival that Shirabu has ever seen.


End file.
